'I would only spoil the splendid passage by quoting it inaccurately from memory. But he was quite right, and his opinion is mine in every particular. So if that is the best Leuke can offer, I heartily agree with you I had best go into some other country.'
'I suppose you already have your eyes upon some minx or other?'
'Well, my love, those girls in the Hesperides were strikingly like you, with even more wonderful hair than yours: and the girl Aille whom we saw in Tir-nam-Beo likewise resembled you remarkably, except that I thought she had the better figure. So I believe in either of those countries I could be content enough, after a while. Since part from you I must,' said Jurgen, tenderly, 'I intend, in common fairness to myself, to find a companion as like you as possible. You conceive I can pretend it is you at first: and then as I grow fonder of her for her own sake, you will gradually be put out of my mind without my incurring any intolerable anguish.'
Anaitis was not pleased. 'So you are already hankering after those huzzies! And you think them better looking than I am! And you tell me so to my face!'
'My darling, you cannot deny we have been married all of three whole months: and nobody can maintain an infatuation for any woman that long, in the teeth of having nothing refused him. Infatuation is largely a matter of curiosity, and both of these emotions die when they are fed.'
'Jurgen,' said Anaitis, with conviction, 'you are lying to me about something. I can see it in your eyes.'
'There is no deceiving a woman's intuition. Yes, I was not speaking quite honestly when I pretended I had as lief go into the Hesperides as to Tir-nam-Beo: it was wrong of me, and I ask your pardon. I thought that by affecting indifference I could manage you better. But you saw through me at once, and very rightly became angry. So I fling my cards upon the table, I no longer beat about the bushes of equivocation. It is Aille, the daughter of Cormac, whom I love, and who can blame me? Did you ever in your life behold a more enticing figure, Anaitis?—certainly I never did. Besides, I noticed—but never mind about that! Still I could not help seeing them. And then such eyes! twin beacons that light my way to comfort for my not inconsiderable regret at losing you, my darling. Oh, yes, assuredly it is to Tir-nam-Beo I elect to go.'
'Whither you go, my fine fellow, is a matter in which I have the choice, not you. And you are going to Leuke.'
'My love, now do be reasonable! We both agreed that Leuke was not a bit suitable. Why, were there nothing else, in Leuke there are no attractive women.'
'Have you no sense except book-sense! It is for that reason I am sending you to Leuke.'
And thus speaking, Anaitis set about a strong magic that hastened the coming of the Equinox. In the midst of her charming she wept a little, for she was fond of Jurgen.
And Jurgen preserved a hurt and angry face as well as he could: for at the sight of Queen Helen, who was so like young Dorothy la Desiree, he had ceased to care for Queen Anaitis and her diverting ways, or to care for aught else in the world save only Queen Helen, the delight of gods and men. But Jurgen had learned that Anaitis required management.
'For her own good,' as he put it, 'and in simple justice to the many admirable qualities which she possesses.'
27. Vexatious Estate of Queen Helen
'But how can I travel with the Equinox, with a fictitious thing, with a mere convention?' Jurgen had said. 'To demand any such proceeding of me is preposterous.'
'Is it any more preposterous than to travel with an imaginary creature like a centaur?' they had retorted. 'Why, Prince Jurgen, we wonder how you, who have done that perfectly unheard-of thing, can have the effrontery to call anything else preposterous! Is there no reason at all in you? Why, conventions are respectable, and that is a deal more than can be said for a great many centaurs. Would you be throwing stones at respectability, Prince Jurgen? Why, we are unutterably astounded at your objection to any such well-known phenomenon as the Equinox!' And so on, and so on, and so on, said they.
And in fine, they kept at him until Jurgen was too confused to argue, and his head was in a whirl, and one thing seemed as preposterous as another: and he ceased to notice any especial improbability in his traveling with the Equinox, and so passed without any further protest or argument about it, from Cocaigne to Leuke. But he would not have been thus readily flustered had Jurgen not been thinking all the while of Queen Helen and of the beauty that was hers.
So he inquired forthwith the way that one might quickliest come into the presence of Queen Helen.
'Why, you will find Queen Helen,' he was told, 'in her palace at Pseudopolis.' His informant was a hamadryad, whom Jurgen encountered upon the outskirts of a forest overlooking the city from the west. Beyond broad sloping stretches of ripe corn, you saw Pseudopolis as a city builded of gold and ivory, now all a dazzling glitter under a hard-seeming sky that appeared unusually remote from earth.
'And is the Queen as fair as people report?' asks Jurgen.
'Men say that she excels all other women,' replied the Hamadryad, 'as immeasurably as all we women perceive her husband to surpass all other men—'
'But, oh, dear me!' says Jurgen.
'—Although, for one, I see nothing remarkable in Queen Helen's looks. And I cannot but think that a woman who has been so much talked about ought to be more careful in the way she dresses.'
'So this Queen Helen is already provided with a husband!' Jurgen was displeased, but saw no reason for despair. Then Jurgen inquired as to the Queen's husband, and learned that Achilles, the son of Peleus, was now wedded to Helen, the Swan's daughter, and that these two ruled in Pseudopolis.
'For they report,' said the Hamadryad, 'that in Ades' dreary kingdom Achilles remembered her beauty, and by this memory was heartened to break the bonds of Ades: so did Achilles, King of Men, and all his ancient comrades come forth resistlessly upon a second quest of this Helen, whom people call—and as I think, with considerable exaggeration—the wonder of this world. Then the Gods fulfilled the desire of Achilles, because, they said, the man who has once beheld Queen Helen will never any more regain contentment so long as his life lacks this wonder of the world. Personally, I would dislike to think that all men are so foolish.'
'Men are not always rational, I grant you: but then,' says Jurgen, slyly, 'so many of their ancestresses are feminine.'
'But an ancestress is always feminine. Nobody ever heard of a man being an ancestress. Men are ancestors. Why, whatever are you talking about?'
'Well, we were speaking, I believe, of Queen Helen's marriage.'
'To be sure we were! And I was telling you about the Gods, when you made that droll mistake about ancestors. Everybody makes mistakes sometimes, however, and foreigners are always apt to get words confused. I could see at once you were a foreigner—'
'Yes,' said Jurgen, 'but you were not telling me about myself but about the Gods.'
'Why, you must know the aging Gods desired tranquillity. So we will give her to Achilles, they said; and then, it may be, this King of Men will retain her so safely that his littler fellows will despair, and will cease to war for Helen: and so we shall not be bothered any longer by their wars and other foolishnesses. For this reason it was that the Gods gave Helen to Achilles, and sent the pair to reign in Leuke: though, for my part,' concluded the Hamadryad, 'I shall never cease to wonder what he saw in her—no, not if I live to be a thousand.'
'I must,' says Jurgen, 'observe this monarch Achilles before the world is a day older. A king is all very well, of course, but no husband wears a crown so as to prevent the affixion of other head-gear.'
And Jurgen went down into Pseudopolis, swaggering.
So in the evening, just after sunset, Jurgen returned to the Hamadryad: he walked now with the aid of the ashen staff which Thersites had given Jurgen, and Jurgen was mirthless and rather humble.
'I have observed your King Achilles,' Jurgen says, 'and he is a better man than I. Queen Helen, as I confess with regret, is worthily mated.'
'And what have you to say about her?' inquires the Hamadryad.
'Why, there is nothing more to say than that she is worthily mated, and fit to be the wife of Achilles.' For
